


Cowboys are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other

by irlenolacroix, Never_Eat_Sour_Wheat



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Campfires, Country & Western, Enemies to Lovers, Handcuffed Together, Holding Hands, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Past Abuse, Stargazing, The Smilin' West, The Smilin' West AU, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25394122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlenolacroix/pseuds/irlenolacroix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Never_Eat_Sour_Wheat/pseuds/Never_Eat_Sour_Wheat
Summary: He wasn't goin' to prison, Doc Habit knew that much. Either Kamal would turn around and let him go, lose sight of the law for a minute, or he'd surely hang. He supposed it didn't matter much one way or another. Someone would take his place if he were made a martyr. There'd be some copycat kid doing the same as him, just sloppier and without the same sense of justice Doc Habit had. Some kid too eager to kill would do a shitty version of the job for him if he died.But... he didn't really want to die. Not anymore, anyways. Especially not now, with Kamal beside him, with their wrists cuffed together and staring at the sky.***Request from Tumblr.
Relationships: Kamal Bora/Dr. Boris Habit
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Cowboys are Frequently Secretly Fond of Each Other

He wasn't goin' to prison, Doc Habit knew that much. Either Kamal would turn around and let him go, lose sight of the law for a minute, or he'd surely hang. He supposed it didn't matter much one way or another. Someone would take his place if he were made a martyr. There'd be some copycat kid doing the same as him, just sloppier and without the same sense of justice Doc Habit had. Some kid too eager to kill would do a shitty version of the job for him if he died.

But... he didn't really want to die. Not anymore, anyways. Especially not now, with Kamal beside him, with their wrists cuffed together and staring at the sky.

Pabit was tied up a little while away with Kamal’s rented horse Vegas, the two of them huffing about being ignored. The campfire was crackling and Doc Habit was warm despite the cool night breeze of a Texas spring. Kamal was right there, though. His hand was cold. Doc Habit could tell from the half-inch of space left between his hand and Kamal's.

He'd rather like to take Kamal's hand.

"You ever come out to the desert and look at the stars like this?" Doc Habit murmured, not looking away from the sky. He could pick out a constellation or two, he'd tried to learn them as a kid. "When you're not chasin' the law, that is. Or justice, I guess, since you ain’t really the law." He snorted a half-laugh. "If you ever stop."

Kamal’s gaze was fixed on the stars as well. Doc Habit wasn’t looking at him, but he could almost tell exactly which cluster of stars he was looking at. "No," Kamal said shortly. "No meanin’ that I don't really stop. Not often. And when I do, I hit the hay so I'll be ready again tomorrow. Ain’t got time to sit around and look at stars when there’s crooks like you on the loose." He was quiet for a moment. "Maybe I oughta take a pause sometimes, though... It's nice. Nice as it can get out here, at least."

Doc Habit hummed. "Makes sense to me, I suppose..." he murmured, sliding his tongue along his lower lip. "You really oughta take a break every once and a while. See the sights. Get all that tension outta that pretty face," he teased, brushing his fingertip against the back of Kamal's hand before retracting it just as quick.  _ Ain’t bad to flirt a little. _

Kamal cleared his throat. “Don’t call me pretty,” he said, though he didn’t move his hand. “I ain’t pretty.”

Doc Habit almost laughed. “Handsome, then,” he said, not retracting his statement. "I mean it, though. Seein' the stars is good for a man's health." He sighed before slowly turning his gaze halfway to Kamal. He thought of saying something, but just kept looking silently.

"Yeah? What makes it healthy?" Kamal asked. "Reminds you that you're tiny? That you don't matter?" He huffed. "I ain't a big fan of stargazin', if you couldn't tell."

Doc Habit took a long moment to consider how he ought to respond, then turned so he was looking up at the sky again. "Opposite of that," he said finally. "Reminds me that this is a big universe and I'm still alive. Outta everything that could'a ever happened in the world, the perfect things happened for this right here to happen. Us on a blanket in the sand." He chuckled quietly. "Reminds me that I must matter, must be doin' somethin', because there's so much that came together for it." He had half a smile on his face. "I don't call it God or anything. Just... somethin' that keeps me alive inside. I know it sounds right stupid, but that’s how I think of it."

Kamal didn’t speak for a while. Doc Habit heard him shifting, though, and knew he’d turned to look at him. “I ain’t think it’s stupid,” he said. His voice took on a more authoritative quality when he spoke again, though. "You think the things leadin' up to this moment were perfect? You think the things leadin' up to you facin' justice tomorrow were perfect?" He gave Doc Habit half a chuckle. "If I were in your boots, I'd be shakin'. Not thinkin' too kindly about the moments that led to this shit show."

Doc Habit shook his head. "Nothin' about it's been perfect, but thinkin’ on it like that lets me sleep at night," he said. "Gotta put my mind to rest somehow." Silence. "...How 'bout you, hmm? Any of this perfect to you? How do them boots feel on you?"

Kamal huffed. “I’m bringin’ you in,” he said. “That’s good enough for me.”

“Fair enough.”

The stars were quiet and non-judgemental. Kamal’s hand was close, and so was his face.

“So…” Kamal said after a while, “you got any big escape plans? Big guy like you could probably snap these cuffs in your sleep.”

Doc Habit didn’t comment on how right Kamal was, just chuckled and gave a shake of the head. "I'll never tell," he said. He rolled over on his side to face Kamal, his hand incidentally getting closer to Kamal's as he did it. "I know you'd catch me in a second and a half. Almost not worth it... But I'll admit, I like the feelin' of you chasin' me down." He almost winked, almost. Would have, were he a bit bolder, but he was feeling too vulnerable for that.

Kamal rolled over too, facing Doc Habit, their hands moving a bit closer so their knuckles almost brushed. "I'd catch you in an instant, you got that right. Not lettin' the biggest success of my career get away."

“Means the world that you care so much, darlin’,” Doc Habit teased, raising an eyebrow and giving Kamal a little smirk. “Wonder what your wife thinks about you bein’ so dedicated to followin’ me around?” It was both a joke and... well, a way to figure out if Kamal was married, Doc Habit would admit it. He hadn’t seen a ring, but maybe Kamal just wasn’t that kind of guy.

Kamal scoffed and turned to look at the sky again. “Ain’t got one,” he said. “Ain’t really my style. Closest I’ve got is my partner Wallus, and he ain’t a lover by any means. Not my type.” He smirked. “Into bigger guys.”

Doc Habit almost choked. He kept his composure, though, and eyed Kamal up and down, lightly biting his lower lip. “I gotcha,” he said softly before changing the subject. “That Wallus… He’s the one you said ain’t like me too much, yeah?”

"Nah. Wallus ain't your biggest fan. Don't blame him. He's..." Kamal chuckled. "I've been after you for so long, and so focused on just you, that Wallus's got tired of hearin' about you. And… well… there's everythin' else too." He sighed. "I ain’t know why you do what you do Habit, but it makes our job a hell of a lot harder."

Doc Habit tried to ignore how his heart jumped at the fact that Kamal talked about him so much, and moved forward to respond to the last sentence. “I’ve got my reasons,” he said carefully, rolling back over to look at the sky. “I’ll share, if you wanna hear. Got the right to remain silent and all that, yeah, yeah, but I’ll share my reasons, with you, that is. If you’re wantin’ to know.”

Kamal moved suddenly, turning all the way over to look at Boris. “Tell me,” he said immediately.

“You sure?”

“I gotta know, Doc.” Doc Habit was surprised by the thinly cloaked desperation in Kamal’s voice. “It’s gonna drive me crazy if you leave me the rest of my life to figure it out.”

Doc Habit blinked slowly, then humphed. "This is off the record, mind you," he said. "I'll tell the court in my own time. Tellin' you because I trust you. Don't think it'll change anything."

“I gotcha.”

Doc Habit paused, trying to think of the best place to start, before slowly beginning to speak again. "...Those missin' teeth in my mouth ain't from bar fights or anything," he said. "My old man... Weren't the best father, or the best man either. I used to grow plants as a kid, flowers, stole books on 'em and grew some real rare ones too." A moment of silence. "My father thought it was mighty strange for a little boy to be actin' like that. Likin' soft and pretty things." He ran his tongue over his lower lip, feeling out some scar tissue. "Jaw's a little crooked now. Took me a while to learn how to eat solid food again, and even now I've got a weird way of chewin'. Can't reach my left arm all the way out straight, either, on account of my shoulder's not quite right. Suppose it never healed itself all the way." He wasn't going to cry, he wasn't. He had to keep that stone face. "Don't want nothin' like that to happen to anyone else. The law don't care about folks like me, about the little kids with missin' teeth or wives with bruised-up necks. If they cared then my old man would'a rotted in jail. But I've gotta do everything myself. Nobody else will." He huffed. "I got big enough to hit back and that was the end of it. Been doin' what I do ever since. Only good thing I ever got from that man was the inheritance. Bought me my revolver. Bought me my horse."

Dead silence.

Doc Habit realized that he’d never said any of it aloud before. He also realized that Kamal was touching his hand now.

“...I’m real sorry,” Kamal said finally, turning his hand to give Doc Habit’s hand a little squeeze. “You ain’t deserve that. Nobody does. You’re real brave for makin’ it out.” He sighed deeply. “Thanks for tellin’ me. Off the record. My lips are sealed.”

Doc Habit shrugged, hoping Kamal couldn’t tell he was about to cry. “Thanks,” he said. “He’s dead and gone now. That’s what matters.” He shook his head, rubbing his thumb along the back of Kamal’s hand. “Can’t imagine you took on this job to chase after fucked up queers with guns. Heh.” The laugh was humorless.

Kamal sighed and tried to crack a smile. “I ain’t mind chasin’ down queers with guns,” he said. “Took this job ‘cause I wanna take care of folks, anyhow. Stop stuff before it happens and pick up the mess when it’s done without answerin’ to nobody. Vigilante work suits me good. I get to bring folks like you to justice and that’s that.” There was silence after that, and Doc Habit assumed that was the end of it, but Kamal’s voice came back far quieter than before. “You got a family, Doc?”

Doc Habit didn’t even remember when he’d looked back at Kamal. Kamal was just there, steady in the light of the campfire, in his field of vision. He was quiet, hesitant. He almost said no. Would have been honest, at least kind of, but... If he was telling Kamal everything, he might as well tell him everything.

"Got a daughter," he whispered, his voice husky. "Not quite, but... somethin' like one. Her name’s Putunia. She's... I saw her parents doin' a number on her and I didn't want her to have to grow up like I did, without any love. So I... Well, her parents aren't around anymore, that's for damn sure." He cleared his throat. "She's stayin' with a friend of mine and his kid for now. I ain’t really got a permanent place to call home, so I'm lookin' for that, a place to settle down and give her the life she deserves." He laughed bitterly. "Guess I can't do that if I hang... Trencil's a good dad, though. I bet he'll take good care of her." He wasn't smiling when he said it.

For a long while, Kamal didn’t move, just looked into Doc Habit’s eyes.

_ When I die tomorrow, _ Doc Habit thought,  _ I’ll be thinkin’ of them eyes, and Putunia’s smile. _

He hardly even noticed Kamal sitting up and unlocking the cuffs until he spoke.

"I'm gonna regret this," Kamal muttered. "I'm not keepin’ a father from his little girl. Just... Boris, just leave.” He finished unlocking the cuffs and took them off of Doc Habit’s--Boris’s--wrist. “Don't tell nobody that I let you go, don't tell nobody what happened. Find that girl a home. And for the love of God, don't make me regret this."

Boris loved it when Kamal said his first name.

He pondered over what to say for a long few moments. The campfire crackled, and Kamal was there in its light.

Boris took Kamal’s hand once more, even without the cuffs. "...If you're serious about this, and you’re not gonna shoot me the second I turn around..." Boris murmured, "...at least let me give ya a little partin' gift."

He raised his free hand to Kamal's face, gently stroking the side of it. His hand was nearly as big as Kamal's head and his face fit there neatly. Boris hadn't touched somebody so gently in a long time, aside from rescuing Putunia. He liked the way it felt. He'd missed this.

He didn't say more. It wouldn't have been honest to say anything more. Nothing more needed to be said or done beyond Boris leaning in and softly kissing Kamal, a sort of thank you, a sort of I love you.

Kamal kissed back. Boris didn’t quite believe in what his father had called God, but he thanked whatever the hell was out there for the fact that Kamal was kissing back.

They kissed each other for a while, Boris holding Kamal’s face there, before Boris pulled back just enough to speak in a gentle whisper. "At least lemme stay the night," he said. "Much better to look at the stars with company than alone."

Kamal just nodded and let out a soft “Yeah,” followed by another kiss.

Boris had meant what he said about being thankful for all his choices. Every choice he’d made led up to meeting Kamal, and he wouldn’t take a second of it back. This was as close to perfect as anything could get.

The night was cloudless, the fire was warm, and Kamal was here, and Kamal was here.

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all, here's more smilin' west for ya! for background / context on this au, please check my "the smilin' west" tag on my tumblr, winemomparker!
> 
> this fic is titled after the willie nelson song of the same name! it was an anonymous request from tumblr and is HEAVILY based on an rp that i did with my dear friend Never_Eat_Sour_Wheat, so much so that i only felt it right to list her as a co-author. she's been a great help on this au and i really appreciate her letting me use our rp as a basis for this fic!
> 
> thank y'all so much for reading! comments and kudos are much appreciated! i love you all! <3


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